


slow blue

by milkdaze (flowerstems)



Series: queen of hearts [7]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6451399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerstems/pseuds/milkdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room is dark blue with the hints of morning light. It's relaxing, and it's pierced by the harsh light of Felicity's phone when her alarm goes off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slow blue

It's one of those mornings, the ones that they both have to wake up early for, which is every morning for Laurel and every other morning for Felicity. Laurel doesn't know the insides of the way Felicity works her timetable though Felicity once told her there's nothing special about it—she doubts that but she goes along with it.

 

Either way, it's one of those mornings and she's slow with getting up, really slow, because it's not fun to wake up early at all, though Felicity seems to be doing worse than her today. Laurel nudges her shoulder and pokes her arm cautiously, trying to get a response, but Felicity just buries her face in her pillow and when Laurel rolls Felicity onto her stomach Felicity rolls back to lean on Laurel.

 

The room is dark blue with the hints of morning light. It's relaxing, and it's pierced by the harsh light of Felicity's phone when her alarm goes off. Laurel leans over Felicity and reaches across to the end table to pick it up, 5:05AM FIRST ALARM OF MANY, and she smiles to herself, gingerly resting the phone beside Felicity's head. The alarm rings, snoozes, repeats the cycle four times, and finally Felicity stirs; she responds to the alarm by flipping her phone over, stopping the alarm, and burying her face in the pillow again.

 

Yet she wonders why she never has any extra time in the morning.

 

"Felicity," Laurel says quietly, even though she’s trying to wake her up, and she rests a hand on her bare shoulder. "Hey, Felicity."

 

There's a groan of a hum, Felicity's voice is as gravelly with sleep as Laurel's, and she rolls just enough that she would be able to look at Laurel if her eyes weren't so set on being shut. Laurel tries tickling her and Felicity just giggles before becoming miraculously numb to the sensation and rolling over into Laurel's lap with a dreamy sigh.

 

“Hey, Laurel,” she murmurs happily, crawling further onto Laurel’s lap so she can wrap her arms around Laurel’s hips and rest her head high up on Laurel’s lap. Laurel starts threading her fingers through Felicity’s hair, smoothing it down and working out the tangles, and Felicity hums. “Why’re you up? Back to sleep. Slee—p.”

 

Laurel laughs and leans back, bracing her weight on her free arm, hand sinking into the covers. “We have to get up, Fel.”

 

“But it’s Sunday?” Felicity looks up at her, eyes heavy with sleep and she blinks slowly, the darkness discouraging her efforts to look at Laurel who just shakes her head. Felicity can tell because her hair tumbles from atop her shoulders, falling to surround her shoulders like a halo.

 

“It’s Thursday.”

 

“Oh my God, why,” she groans, the sound muffled halfway through as she buries her face in Laurel’s lap, humming in content with how much warmer Laurel’s lap is than her pillow. “We’ve earned a day off. Lie back down,” she insists, “sleep with me.”

 

Laurel hums, shifting to cross her legs and Felicity accommodates her by rolling off and letting an arm slide from around Laurel’s hips and into the space between Laurel’s thighs. When she settles Felicity insincerely glowers at her. “What?”

 

“Let’s just take the morning off?”

 

“We probably shouldn’t,” but Felicity doesn’t seem to be in the mood for any of Laurel’s _let’s go do our jobs and save our city post-haste_ speeches today because she starts crawling up along Laurel and leaning all her weight onto her until Laurel finally gives in and lets Felicity push her back onto the bed.

 

“We probably should,” Felicity counters, both arms framing Laurel’s head as she holds herself up. Felicity is awake enough now to think Laurel makes the Mona Lisa look obscenely plain then she dips her head to press a kiss to the tip of Laurel’s nose. “And you should probably give me my good morning kiss, too. Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t give it to me yet.” Felicity chuckles, eyes and voice still sleepy but she’s smiling as though she’s been awake for hours.

 

Laurel’s hand finds itself tangled in Felicity’s hair again, coaxing her down again, and Felicity’s mouth is so warm and soft against hers Laurel almost forgets to scrunch up her face when Felicity pulls back. “Your morning mouth tastes _so_ bad.”

 

“Because yours was totally my taste.” Felicity huffs, mirrors Laurel’s expression, even the little twitch to her mouth because Laurel is struggling not to laugh right up until Felicity wrinkles her nose- Laurel feels a little ashamed for laughing as much as she does. Felicity twists her mouth to the side and drops her weight onto Laurel, successfully interrupting her laughter. “That’s why we’re both gonna stay right here, Laur.”

 

Laurel makes a sound, something between a hum and a challenge, and Felicity wraps her arms around Laurel’s waist and holds her ground even when Laurel starts kissing her neck and tickling her again. She gives up when Felicity’s fourth alarm rings for the somethingth time—Laurel lost count. Felicity had been ignoring every alarm as valiantly as she had been squeezing Laurel and keeping her on the bed.

 

Felicity rolls off Laurel and settles into her side, smiling wide in victory, and idly plays with Laurel’s hair as Laurel comes to terms with the reality of being late.

 

“Don’t make that face.”

 

“What face?” Laurel tries not to sound as sulky as she feels; it doesn’t work.

 

“That _everything is shrouded in sorrow what do I do now_ face.”

 

“That’s a very specific description.”

 

“For a very specific expression,” Felicity props herself up on her arm, cradling the back of her head with her hand as her eyes rove up and down, up and down. “It’s just one day, the universe will understand.”

 

“The universe never understands.” Laurel wants to huff, wants to continue sulking, but when she rolls onto her side to meet Felicity’s gaze she finds it incredibly hard to remember why she was giving any damns about the universe in the first place. Another of Felicity’s alarms goes off and instead of ignoring it Felicity mutes her phone then shoves it under her pillow.

 

“We’ll make it understand.” Felicity leans in and Laurel meets her halfway, free hand raising to cradle Felicity’s jaw and she feels Felicity smile against her mouth. “Later.”

 

Laurel smiles and rolls onto Felicity, kissing her over and over, light and quick. “Fine.” Felicity slides a hand up Laurel’s arm and along her shoulder to play idly on her nape and Laurel leans down to butterfly-kiss Felicity’s cheek. “Just one day.”

 

They stay in bed until the sun rises and the room is a bright, sunny colour even though the curtains are drawn, the light wrapping everything like a halo and Laurel gets so comfortable on Felicity they forget about important things like their jobs and world peace for one day and the world shamelessly keeps spinning, unbothered.

  
(At 10:03AM Felicity unmutes her phone and they both decide to call in sick for the day then proceed to crawl out of bed and drown their guilt in ice cream while watching reruns they’ve both seen more times than either of them will admit.)

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell i like writing domestic/bed scenes oops. for day 7: milestones or smut± _fluff_  
>  it took me months to finish a week challange ahaha a aha


End file.
